


What Gallimaufry Did Next

by AJHall



Series: Gallimaufry: Being A Collection of Divers Comment-fics, Drabbles and Snippets [3]
Category: Cabin Pressure, Doctor Who, Gondal - Bronte children, James Bond (Craig movies), Return to Night - Mary Renault, Sherlock (TV), Sky Captain & the World of Tomorrow (2004), The Charioteer - Mary Renault, Torchwood
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-04
Updated: 2014-10-04
Packaged: 2018-02-19 20:03:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2401199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AJHall/pseuds/AJHall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Further cross-over snippets and doodles. Glimpses into the past or future lives of characters from existing fics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Youth and Age on Beaulieu Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Rigging Screws](https://archiveofourown.org/works/193527/chapters/284906), one year on.

"No. Of course you're not feeling sick, Katie. Don't be ridiculous. What people tell you is seasickness is mostly your body telling you that you need a cheese sandwich. Yes, of course I've got cheese sandwiches on board. Let me hand one over. Here. And no; don't share it with Keith. Gluten-free is gluten-free.

"No, Susie, that ferry's not going to hit us. Why? Because it's going up Southampton Water and it draws about sixteen feet more than we do. So it'll be stuck in the mud long before it gets anywhere near an Oppie's draught. Or the RIB's. And put your jacket on!

"No. Scientific fact. What do you mean, you can't find that on Google? How on earth are you getting Google half-way down the Solent? Oh. Well, Rudie, I'm sure your mother won't appreciate you draining her monthly data minutes. Switch it off now, and put it into this plastic pouch here, where it's not going to get all splashed once we get out out into the big seas and need replacing.

"No, Gertrude, this boat is not haunted. No. No. No, I'm telling you, I was there, and it completely wasn't this RIB's propeller that had the human bits in the sack round it -- and who told you that, anyway? Justin? Justin? You and I are going to have words...

"George. Don't do that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final words are, of course, a quotation from Joyce. Not James. Grenfell. (And definitely, in _l'esprit de l'escalier_ terms, what the Chancellor should have said to the President.)


	2. They Withered All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fortnight after [Lilies at the Funeral](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2229546/chapters/4890894)

Oh, God, she thought, I'm rich.

There were so many other, so more respectable thoughts she could have had, it occurred to her a few moments later.

 _I'm disgraced_ or _I've lost the love of my life_ or _Poor Julian_ or even _Phew! Consider having that as a mother-in-law! Dodged a bullet there, didn't you?_

And all of them were true, and all of them were right, and yet none of them were as true as that first awful eruption of her sub-conscious.

Of course, two weeks after that Mr Chamberlain did his "No such assurance has been received -" bit, and rich or poor stopped having quite the meaning they'd had for some time.

Hilary found it hard not to blame Elaine Fleming for that, too.

Being rich properly -- even if racked by guilt -- would have been so _satisfying_.


	3. The Torment of the Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft I, King of Gaaldine, dies in bed, at an advanced age. But not peacefully.

So, would you set your demons' spikes in my yet-living guts, O Prince of Hell? Not wholly premature, I'll grant you that. I'm not the pattern for a generous creditor.

No, as you your Hellishness well knows, I've had men hauled out screaming. Aye: sold out their children and their wives before their bleeding eyes in quittance of their debts, before t'second stroke of St Mary's bell had sounded past their due and owing hour. Sold out, I'll have you know -- convenient, how the Sultan's marts so serve to profit Christian kings from that which Christendom disdains. He said that to me once, you know, that whey-faced womanish brat -- said it to my very face, to me, his grandfather, his King, his lord on Earth -- as you, my Lord, are lord of all beneath --

Oh, Lord of All, remember when we bargained, that night above the valley, between the border hills?

I asked you then, you know it well; what is it that you offer to lesser men than me?

Military victory? I would have won those battles anyway.

As for women -- notice, Lord, it was always and forever, women I desired (granted, there were nights up on the cold border lands with death on either hand when we took what we could, where we could, and to hell -- pardon your reverence -- with the morning. Necessity knows no law -- not even yours, my Lord.)

I needed not your help with women, Lord, and knew it. They flocked around me, hanging off my every breath. Even -- before the madness took her -- that cold, proud bitch Genia acknowledged me her master. 

Leave love o' women to wide-eyed, sweaty, unshaven Faust and scholars of his ilk. I did not need your help.

No: I held out against every sweet temptation, until your very last.

You promised me my family's name would live beyond the ends of all the dying stars.

And now you show me how.

Live? Forever live, but live in him? In that? There is no torment of this world -- seen or unseen, over earth or under it -- which gives more pain than this you show me now.

Lead on, you spiked devils, lead you on. I come to Hell, and who with better right? I bargained for my due and drained it dry. E'en so I come, lord Lucifer. I come. But -- one last boon, I served thee well -- let not thy demons torment me ever with his name. Anything but that, I pray you, Lord. BUT NOT HIS NAME.


	4. I'll Sing You Two-Oh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marie Ross tries to make sense of a world turned right-side up.
> 
> Two days on from [Green Grow the Rushes, O!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/827077)

"This is -- like -- I'm overwhelmed."

Terrence looked faintly embarrassed."You -- ah -- mean by the grace of God?"

"No, you complete dickhead." Her hand went to her mouth. "Oh, I am _so_ sorry --"

Terrence grinned. "You had - what - two days in Sherlock's company? It was bound to rub off. Don't worry about it. But overwhelmed by what?"

"Your offering me that caravan at the end of your garden to stay in 'till I get my head screwed back on straight. You've no idea what having a place all to myself -- where i can come and go without that feeling of being watched all the time means to me, after all this time. You mean you don't MIND?"

"Why should I mind? In my father's mind-palace -- bugger it, house - are many mansions...though I should warn you, in some of them the roof leaks -"


	5. Goldenpaws

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A week after the events of [Code Name "Uisdean"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/232111) Bond finally reports in...

"You are," M said severely, "a terribly silly fluffly wah-wah lovely ickle Snoopadoop, aren't you then, you snuggly baby wah-wah doggle whatsit?"

"Woof!" Snoopadoop agreed.

A tall figure was outlined against the sun streaming in through the plane's open door.

M recovered herself instantly.

"007! How kind of you to turn up. Report, please."

"Of course, M. When Miracle Day occurred, we were - oh, who's a soppy little baby with a ticklish little chin, then?"


	6. Wind on the Himalayas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five years on from [Fog on the Clyde](http://ajhall.shoesforindustry.net/ebooks/7/ajhall_fog_on_the_clyde/), Helen has found where her heart lies.

"They are lovely," Helen conceded breathlessly, as the sais helped her dismount. "But - oh - I feel so much more in control when it's a plane."

The Maharajah laughed down at her from the back of his own elephant. "I do not think even my good friend Sky Captain could contrive to play polo in aeroplanes. Though doubtless his Dex could contrive some contraption to hold the sticks, at least." His voice changed, became serious. "And do you truly have to go on with them when they arrive tomorrow? I had hoped, this time, I might keep you with me a little longer."

"Me too. But -- " Helen bit her lip. "It's odd, you know; when Joe first told me he needed shorthand and typing in a war zone, I just thought he was saying it to make me feel better. But -- logistics is something I can do, after all. To make a difference, I mean."

"And when is Central Asia not a warzone? Especially with that scoundrel Stalin stirring everything up for all he's worth. Ah well -- _Since there's no help, come let us kiss and part_ \-- though as for that, Hafiz had far more to sense to say about love that the whole of the English canon, no matter how hard the masters at Eton tried to convince me of the opposite."

"You don't need to convince me."

"No?" The Maharajah raised one eyebrow. "And here I had rather hoped we might have some fun trying."

"We might indeed," Helen said. And smiled.


	7. Something on the Third

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seven years after [Besieged Fortress](https://archiveofourown.org/works/614138/chapters/1107231)

"The BBC called. Again." Ralph tossed the words back over his shoulder as he carried the dirty dishes through into the kitchen.

Since nothing would be heard until every last speck of bacon and eggs had been eradicated from the crockery with washing soda and very hot water, Laurie applied himself to galley proofs.

"So," he said, when Ralph re-emerged. "The BBC. What do they want?"

"You, my dear, it seems. It seems someone with sense has decided that the post-war palate needs a little pepper and vinegar to season their normal bland fare. So, it seems, they're wanting you for a regular spot on one of their late-high highbrow arts offerings. So. What are you proposing to tell Portland Place?"


	8. The Whirligig of Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fifteen years after [ Underground](https://archiveofourown.org/works/226205), Lois and Donna meet for a cup of tea.

"Well, here it is. Operation Overlord. Finally. And God bless all who sail in her!"

"Ssh." Lois looked round the hotel bar. "Loose lips --"

"You have gone native." Donna's hand went to her lips. "Oh, shit. I didn't mean -"

"I know." Lois's face hadn't relaxed at all. "Though since there are so many who do mean, I don't find it makes as much difference as you might think."

The silence after that threatened to stretch on indefinitely.

Eventually Lois said, "Four years to the _Windrush_. Same year we get apartheid. Swings and roundabouts. And then nearly another twenty years before 'I have a dream.' And then another five years and he gets shot."

Donna pursed her lips. "And then it's another two years before I get to burn my bra. By which time I'll have to have so much steel cantilevering in it I'll need a furnace."

The Air Raid siren sounded. Lois and Donna looked at each other.

"But the Blitz isn't supposed to start up again for weeks yet --"

"Stands to reason - look, I know how hard we've tried - but 24 hours a day, seven days a week - you can't keep it up forever. Lucky it's not a bigger slip."

"But - Lois, listen - listen to that noise. Grandad told me about it. That's not a plane, it's a doodlebug."

"What, the one's where the engine was always supposed to cut out just before -?"

Her voice sounded suddenly loud in the quiet of the bar. Lois and Donna dived, simultaneously, beneath the table.


End file.
